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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24832483">intoxicated</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nombre_appelido/pseuds/nombre_appelido'>nombre_appelido</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Napping, get some warm milk, i command you to rest, or some tea, read this for blessed sleepytime, soul soothing content</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:42:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>335</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24832483</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nombre_appelido/pseuds/nombre_appelido</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>a meadow. a tree. a lullaby. one sensitive scalp. two wandering hands. there's curl texture, there's a breeze, and most importantly, there's naptime.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>intoxicated</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Love-drunk” is a word thrown around pretty casually. Being drunk on love seemed either romantic or terrifying. Who would want that? Wasn’t lucidity the best policy when--<br/>

A hand ran through my hair.<br/>
mmmm, I thought. I had a really sensitive scalp, and--<br/>
The hand pulled again. And kept pulling.<br/>

--and I couldn’t really think when someone ran their hands through my hair.<br/>

By now the hand was practically combing, and I was this close to moaning aloud.<br/>
Another hand entered my hair, pulling at tangles gently and twirling through the snags.<br/>
My eyes fluttered shut.<br/>
The hands began scratching gently.<br/>
oh--<br/>

They got the sensitive spot at the crown of my head.<br/>
“Oh,” I moaned quietly.<br/>
A voice rumbled with laughter. “Oh, you like that?”<br/>
I nodded softly.<br/>
The hand pulled my head back so that my mouth fell open slightly. “I want to hear you,” it said, and then it kept going.<br/>

Scratching, unsnarling, combing. Even as the tugs became rougher, I just zoned out more, lost in the sensation.<br/>
The voice tickled my ear slightly. “I want to hear you,” it repeated in a singsongy voice.<br/>

“Why, do you get off on it--ohhh,” I moaned at a sharp tug.<br/>
A breeze began.<br/>
“Mmm. Keep going like that. I can probably get you to sleep.”<br/>
ah, sleep, I thought. The leaves rustled slightly in the gentle wind. you could get me to sleep, if you kept going like this.<br/>

I was in a haze, almost. All I could feel were the hands, and the breeze. And then I heard singing, a soft lullaby.<br/>
oh, now that is just mean.<br/>
I could feel myself yawning, my arms stretching. The lap my head was in was feeling more and more comfortable. The battered soles of my sneakers shuffled against the short stone wall we were on, shaded by the trees.<br/>

“Sleep, love,” the voice said, finishing its lullaby. “I want you to rest. I won’t stop combing through your hair for a while yet.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>are you going to take a nap? you should. you've earned it, yeah? rest! your work can wait a little while. set a timer if you must. i just want you to rest.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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